


Strike Team Gamma

by Lukeup12



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 09:58:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8158090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lukeup12/pseuds/Lukeup12
Summary: When Jack Morrison needs a new group of heroes to save the world (again), he decides to make Strike Team Gamma. Reaper has the same idea and forms a similar team with Talon. My first fanfiction, so please review and critique it as you see fit. Thank you, and enjoy!





	

_Two weeks ago…_

 

_Sydney, Australia_

 

            As Junkrat shot a frag grenade at the cop, a figure silently watched from the shadows. Junkrat took no notice, however, and kept trying to take out the omnics that were guarding the main entrance to The Bank of Sydney. Suddenly, one of the robots was hit by a hook and went flying into the air towards a towering figure with a gas mask, ponytail, and a pig tattoo on his very large belly. This was Roadhog, Junkrat’s partner in crime. They were both Australian, but Junkrat (Real Name: Jamison Fawkes) was the leader of the duo. Roadhog seemed fine being the extra muscle, thought the shadowy figure, who was known only as Reaper. _These two will do nicely_ , he thought, and quickly pulled a small metal device from a concealed pocket inside his black outfit. He pushed a button on the device, and promptly slid it into the fray. The device was a holographic recorder, and it fit in quite nicely with the carnage that was being created by the pair. Reaper then stepped into the darkness, and disappeared

 

Junkrat was elated. He was having one hell of a night, and it was just getting started. If they could pull off this heist, then they could maybe finally leave the hellhole that the rest of the world called Australia. They might even be able to start a career (of crime). Just thinking about it, Junkrat already felt excited. All they needed to do, he thought, was - “Get your head out of the clouds, Junk! We’ve got a job to do and we need to focus!” Roadhog yelled in his muffled, gruff voice, snapping Junkrat out of his reverie and back into the chaos of the bank, now swarming with cop bots. As they ran down the hallway to the safe, Junkrat saw it, and realized it would be a very tough nut to crack without damaging the precious loot inside. He made a split second decision, and told Roadhog to go “full hog” and take out the bots. Roadhog obliged, putting a special attachment on his scrap gun, and shooting much faster than normal, decimated the robots. However, the gun made many dents in the safe door, much to Junkrat’s chagrin. In the suddenly empty room, Junkrat set to work on how to take out the safe without destroying what was inside. He asked Roadhog to keep watch, set a bear trap just in case, and then completely immersed himself.

 

Reaper was strolling out the back entrance of the bank, when he heard them ask, “Who the bloody hell are you?” Chuckling under his breath, he replied, “I’m your worst nightmare.” “Nice try mate, but we don’t scare that easy. Take off that mask and maybe we can work out a shorter sentence.” Reaper laughed quite hauntingly, “Perhaps this’ll change your mind,” he said with a cocky air, and leapt into the middle of them, yelling “DIE, DIE, DIE” and spinning around while firing guns to create a blossom of death. Reaper looked around to make sure no one had witnessed what had just occurred. Satisfied he was alone, he quickly walked away.

 

            Junkrat was almost finished with the safe, and he smiled as he put the finishing charges, and as he stepped back to admire his work, small packets of explosives dotted the exterior of the safe. He laughed crazily as he placed his finger on the detonator. He pushed the big, red, button, and the controlled explosion blew the vault door off its hinges. Roadhog let out an impressed grunt, and they went into the safe.

 

As they stepped into the vault, Junkrat realized there was something wrong. “Where’s all the money?” he said aloud as all he saw around him was empty shelves. Suddenly, he saw a table with three things on it. A card, a device that looked similar to a recording device that Junkrat had once seen, and an envelope bulging with whatever was inside. Upon closer inspection, the device turned out to be a recording device. Pushing the play button, he took a step back, and a shadowy hologram of a man wearing the outfit of a reaper. “Junkrat, Roadhog, congratulations! My name is Reaper, and I work for Talon. We see it fit to invite you to a special meeting. In the envelope, you will find tickets for a private, exclusive flight to Paris, that leaves tomorrow. If for whatever reason you need money, use the card we have provided. It is archaic, but it is also completely untraceable and is accepted anywhere you would need. We hope you will get on that flight tomorrow, as Talon desperately needs your select… skills. We know that you’ll love the cause.” “Crikey, mate!” said a pleasantly surprised Junkrat, “This bloke looks like he eats souls for breakfast!” Junkrat carefully picked up the envelope, wary of traps after what had happened for him to lose his leg and arm all that time ago. As he opened it, he began to laugh, with a touch of insanity. There were hotel passes, plane tickets, and even vouchers for luggage at the Sydney Airport. As he showed it all to Roadhog, they heard sirens, and realized their situation. Junkrat said what they were both thinking “Let’s get out of here, and go get our new lives!” As they sprinted away, Junkrat couldn’t keep a grin off his face, as normal, but instead of a crazy smirk, this time it was a wholehearted smile. He thought of all he was going to do, once he left Australia.

 

_Present_

 

_Paris, France_

 

Junkrat leapt out of bed with a lopsided smirk on his face. Today, after two weeks of chilling in one of the poshest hotels in Paris, he was finally gonna meet the elusive Reaper, and the members of Talon. Last night there had been an envelope on his bed, with just a slip of paper with the word _tomorrow_ on it. Junkrat hoped he could stay longer at the hotel. His personal waitress (a perk of the five-star hotel) was named Amélie, and always laughed at his inept attempts to flirt with her. Junkrat was still getting used to having a bed to sleep in, and having his clothes (somewhat) clean. As Junkrat walked towards the bathroom, he felt a sharp pain in his neck, and he suddenly fell to the floor. The last thing he saw was Reaper standing over him, talking to Amélie, saying “He’s ready for transport. Bring him to the HQ.” Then Junkrat slipped into a dreamless sleep, unaware of the danger he was in.

 


End file.
